Climbing the Magic Mountain
CLIMBING THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN
AN EXCLUSIVE CYCLE WORLD RACE REPORT
DAVE EVANS
MICHIGAN'S Mt. Garfield is more like a wall than a mountain. From the distance, it looks like a ski jump. As you draw closer, you realize that it is just too steep for that. It is designed for motorcycles. Only a motorcycle hillclimb competitor would even consider scaling the hill. The incline is somewhere between 45 and 60 degrees, as the hill "bows" out halfway up, which increases the angle slightly. If you climb the face on foot, it takes between 10 and 20 minutes, grasping for hand and footholds all the way up. If you use the steps by the side of the hill (each of which was donated by a person, motorcycle club, or other organization, and each of which bears the name of the donor, recorded for posterity in cement. It makes interesting reading before the climb.) it will take you around 10 minutes anyway, since it is necessary to take rest stops.
The hill is 360 feet high from foot to crest. Thirty feet beyond the crest is a sheer dropoff into Lake Michigan. For this reason, the climb ends at the 340 foot mark, to allow the riders to get off their mounts in case they can't shut off. Better to drown a bike than a rider! At the strategic 100 and 200 foot levels, two deep gouges have been cut. They make the climb much more difficult. (Understatement!) If you can't vault right over them, you have to take them very slowly, or you get thrown . . . the hard way. It had rained the morning of the championship, so the hill was wet . . . slow. A field of 17 amateurs, riding bikes up to 45 cu. in., and 17 professionals, riding machines up to 74 cu. in. were on hand to demonstrate their skill. They were chosen on the basis of points accumulated in roughly 20 other hillclimbs earlier in the year. First man up the hill in the amateur class was Phil
Petrick. Riding on the slick grass, his time of 11.05 was short of sensational, but not by much. Phil sat back and waited to be "bumped." (A rider, if he has a top time, need not climb the hill again unless someone beats his time. Indeed, if he just decides "to hell with it," he needn't try again at all . . . but these riders aren't that sort!) 16 riders assaulted the hill . . . some fast, some slow. Each rider slowly used up his 3 chances, and finally H-D mounted Tom Reisser Jr. hurled his bike up the hill in 9:96 on his second ride of the day. Phil Petrick pushed his Harley back to the mark, strapped on his helmet, then paused for a moment to listen to Charlie Jacobs, hillclimb champion in '60 and '61. Charlie had been examining the hill carefully. "See that little bump on the right? . . . stay a little to the left of it and hold the throttle open right up the center of the hill." Phil nodded and did just that. Time: 9:05 seconds. Reisser couldn't cut Phil's time ... so Phil Petrick won the amateur championship.
The pro's made the hill look a little smaller. Gordon Mitzel, Indian mounted, made a perfect first run. He became, technically, the new 1962 professional champion! Glen Kyle tried the hill on his Vincent-HRD. Then racing's real "old man of the mountain," Howard Mitzel, took his turn. A competition rider for over 50 years (you read right, youngster), Howard fouled out short of the 100 foot level. Defending champ, Charlie Jacobs, too, bogged down short of the 100 foot mark. This broke his stride. Charlie had confided, earlier, that he took his first run slowly, to learn the hill. His second run was always flat out, with his third as a safety-run in case his second wasn't fast enough.
Several runs later Joe Hemmis, winner in 1959, put the wheel of his Triumph to the line. Every Triumph rider in the onlooking crowd held his breath. Joe blasted over the top in just short of 8 seconds. Then, rider after rider used up his three runs trying to beat the Maryland Triumph dealer's time. Howard Mitzel took a nasty fall under his machine . . . supposedly out for the day on his second run. To the delight of the crowd, amid much cheering, Howard took another crack at the slope, only to foul out again as he had on his first run.
Even more than the competition among themselves, the riders were feeling the competition against the hill. They constantly pointed out difficult portions to one another and helped prepare the starting line groove for each other. Charlie Jacobs took his second run ... a slow one . . . looking over the landscape. Charlie started a third, rushing blast at the slope, and was thrown.
The TV cameras were setting up for the interview of the winner, Joe Hemmis, when Glen Kyle brought his Vincent to the line again for his third and final run. The exhaust was really barking, and Glen made a beautifully-balanced ride with a time of 7:72 . . . mere hundredths of a second under Hemmis' time. Joe brought his immaculate blue Triumph to the'line again, set his jaw, and popped the clutch. In one huge rush he marked up a time of 7:55 . . . and returned to the stand where the TV cameras got set to roll. The cameras turned back to the hill again, though, as the nasty blat of Will Bryan's BSA announced a clean start off the line. It was a fast run . . . no kill button ... no trace of a wobble . . . right up and over the crest. Everyone held their breath. After what seemed an eternity . . . the announcer read the time: 7: . . .95! Joe's face showed real relief . . . the last rider took his turn at the hill . . . and Joe Hemmis and his Triumph became the new kings of the hill!!
Mt. Garfield is between South Haven and Muskegon in Michigan. It's run by the Muskegon M.C., and it's run well. If you like close competition by men who really know their business . . . and the heady fumes of methanol and nitromethane (undisguised by castor oil or other additives) . . . and a real picnic of a day . . . come on out next year and watch the climb up the magic mountain. •
